


it doesn’t matter where the trolley goes (because soon enough we’ll find our own way home)

by earthseaBorealis



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Crabapple Zine, Date Night, Established Relationship, Humanstuck, M/M, bowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthseaBorealis/pseuds/earthseaBorealis
Summary: If he had the time and money, Karkat would immediately quit his part-time job, drop out of medical school, and travel the world with his boyfriend, Dave, but for now, he'll cherish the time they have together.(Or, Dave and Karkat go on a bowling date in between the rush of university and part-time jobs)
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	it doesn’t matter where the trolley goes (because soon enough we’ll find our own way home)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for the Crabapple Zine, created to give tribute to one of Homestuck's most iconic pairings: Davekat! 50 talented artists, writers, and cosplayers contributed to this, and I really encourage you to check out the entire project! You can find it here: https://crabapple-zine.itch.io/crabapple-zine or on our Tumblr and Twitter @crabapplezine

Karkat rested his body against an ivy-covered brick wall. He was cool, casual, and totally not freaking out at all. It wasn’t like he’d just rushed out of his apartment with only one shoe on and his jacket fluttering behind him as he ran down his apartment’s stairway. Nothing of the sorts.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a lie, but hey, it wasn’t his fault he was running behind! His shift at Chick-Fil-A (fuck that homophobic restaurant) ran late due to an utterly obnoxious older couple, who’s, quote-on-quote “bun” was overtoasted. A bun of all things for God’s sake! It was complete and utter bullshit, but all Karkat could do was put on his customer-friendly smile and give them a coupon for a free combo meal, if he wanted to keep his job. Well, he didn’t really want to, but how else was he supposed to afford university? Premedical study programs were fucking expensive.

Except, that wasn’t all! Of course, the couple decided to tell him literally a minute before his shift ended. Heaven forbid they talk to anybody else except for the short Filipino boy trying to clock out for the night. He’d get a bit of extra pay thankfully, but literally any other day would’ve been better. He already had a tight schedule, class from 11:30-1:30, work from 2:00-6:30, and date night at 7:30. Time was, quite literally, against him. 

In a span of forty-five minutes, he had to catch the metro back to his apartment, shower the smell of greasy chicken off of him, feed Crabdad, his adorable chubby pug, and make himself look presentable (hey, eyeliner took a lot of time to apply), all while trying to catch a bus downtown. Thankfully, he was able to catch the bus right before it left the station, allowing him to still be the punctual bastard he was, and always will be. 

So, there he was, leaning casually against the brick wall of an old bowling alley, taking in the wonderful smell of teenagers and sketchy old men smoking outside, and scrolling through his not-updating Twitter feed, constantly looking up to see if Dave was there. It was fine. Dave said he’d be a little late since he was finishing up a photoshoot, but that didn’t do much to calm Karkat’s nerves. He knew his boyfriend would never just stand him up, but his wretched douche-balloon of a brain begged to differ. That same stupid part of his brain anxiously wondered if he still reeked of greasy chicken. Fuck. Had he even put on enough deodorant, or was he going to scare Dave away with his horrendous smell? 

He almost dropped his phone in shock when he looked up and actually saw the outline of the one and only Dave Strider. He was dressed in his normal shades and ripped jeans, but he had switched his normal t-shirts to a button-down flannel, though he wasn’t sure if it was for their… date or just his previous photoshoot… he always said something about making a good impression on his clients or whatever. 

“Yo! What’s up, Kat,” Dave yelled, running towards him and waving. Oh god, he was making a scene… again. Karkat’s face flushed as everybody in a fifty-mile radius turned to look at them, but Dave seemed unphased, “Sorry I’m so late! Young couples can just talk forever, y’know? Not saying I don’t love it, but sometimes a dude just wants to meet his date on time for once.”

“It’s fine, just stop shouting before some mom yells at us for scaring her kids or whatever the fuck they do now,” He grumbled, choosing to lace hands with the other boy and drag him inside. 

Karkat’s nose crinkled almost immediately upon entering the building. There was a fading smell of cigarettes and marijuana, way too much for a supposedly ‘family-friendly’ business, mixed with sweaty teenagers trying to impress their newfound love interest. The only thing that kept him distracted from the absolutely pungent smell was the brushing of the pair’s hands. The romantic side of him begged to take a hold of the other’s hand, to squeeze it tight and to never let go, forgoing a decent score and instead, lifting the heavy bowling ball with a single hand, the other intertwined with his partner’s. 

Yet the braindead shit-stench of an asshole he called himself begged to differ. He obviously had a reputation to upkeep, and he wasn’t about to lose to a douche with vomit-inducing sunglasses and abnormally sweaty hands. 

Karkat had bragged about his bowling ability for weeks and he wasn’t about to back down. Yeah, sure, he’d only gone bowling once, when he was like six years old on a school trip, but he was a master at Wii Sports, so how hard could the real-life version possibly be? Exactly. Even with the annoying and drugged-up teenagers and the squealing of two siblings while their parents bowled, there was no way he was going to lose. 

Dave bumped elbows with him, snapping Karkat out of his daze. He looked up to see Dave’s smirking face, “You thinking ‘bout how I’m gonna totally wipe your ass at this game?”

“No way in fucking hell. I was comparing the differences between Wii Sports and real life. Oh, wait! There is none! Consider yourself absolutely owned,” he spat back. Stupid fucking Striders and their prickish lackadaisical douchejerk responses. 

“Dude, have you ever actually bowled in real life before,” Dave asked, lowering his eyebrows as if he was staring down the other boy. 

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” he shouted back.

Dave burst out laughing in response, leaning against Karkat to regain his balance. He really, really wanted to step away and watch him crash onto the floor… maybe then he’d actually take off his stupid shitty sunglasses in public, but knowing Dave, he’d probably find some way to keep it on… It was part of that “Strider Charm” or whatever made-up thing he was rambling about. 

“Thought you were gonna ramble on ‘bout the romanti...cies? Is that a word? Idk, it is now… Wait what was I saying,” He paused, “Oh right, anyway, don’t expect me to go easy or anything. I pride myself on beating Rose in bowling, and y’know us Strilondes don’t ever go easy.”

“Good,” Karkat spat, “I’ll serve you a rainbow goddamn pile of go fuck yourself and beat your stupid ass because guess what? I’m fucking amazing at bowling.” Okay, maybe that was a complete lie, but it wasn’t like Dave had to know that. 

“Cool, then I guess it won’t be a problem to lift that sixteen-pound bowling ball over there then, right,” Dave instigated? That smug motherfucker

“Oh, well aren’t you just the funniest. Ha, fucking ha!” As they walked towards their assigned lane, Karkat realized that maybe saying that was a horrible idea… He didn’t even know how to hold a bowling ball for Christ’s sake! And even Dave was beginning to realize that!

“Dude, I can teach you how to play if you don’t know how too… No shame here,” Dave said, bumping shoulder with the shorter boy. 

“Okay,” he groaned, “Maybe I haven’t played this stupid game before, but it’s fine! All I have to do is roll this unnecessarily heavy bowling ball and knock over pins… How hard could it be?”

It turns out that bowling was in fact “hard.” He had probably traumatized the little children a few lanes down with all his screeching, but hey, Dave was equally bad. Every shot of his went into the gutter… wait a goddamn moment… 

“Dave I swear to fucking god if this is you trying to be ironic! What happened to those bowling skills you promised me?”

“Dude, the point of bowling is to get it in the gutter, right? And I’m fucking amazing at that, so are you. We’re ‘bout to go to the Olympics with these mad skills,” Dave started, “Yo, I feel a rap coming on.”

“No,” Karkat groaned, cutting off his quote-quote ‘sick beats.’ “I know how bowling works, you pretentious writhing fuckmouth.”

“Kay, while I’m going to be totally real and just come out with this, and no, not in that way, Kar. I know what you’re thinking ‘bout,” he winked, “But for realsies, shit forget I just said that. Okay, seriously though, this is my first time bowling too. Never really got the chance to as a kid, cuz it wasn’t ironic enough, well you know the drill… Bro didn’t really have the time or patience to ever really go bowling, and I couldn’t convince Rose to ever take me because she’s too posh. Thought I could maybe impress you with my mad bowling skills, but it turns out I don’t have any. Guess that makes two of us, ey?”

“Did you really think I was going to dump you just because you can’t bowl? Fuck, don’t answer that. I promise I’m not that big of a douche, okay,” Karkat looked up at him and smiled, “Plus, you’ve already seen my horrible skills and you haven’t dumped me yet. You’re still stuck with me.”

“Shit, Kat, you’re gonna make me cry… Seriously, thanks though, it means a lot to me,” he said, bumping elbows with Karkat. “So, how ‘bout we ditch this dumb sport and just get some slushies instead?”

“Fuck yeah, they better have blue raspberry or I’m suing.”

So yeah, maybe they were poor university students, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t waste money on sugary frozen beverages every so often. Plus, it meant they got to torture the old man working at the counter by asking for two straws, for sharing purposes. The two ended up sitting in a corner booth far away from the front counter and the dirty looks parents were giving the pair. Karkat wasn’t sure if it was over their language or relationship, or both, but he wasn’t about to find out. 

Dave leaned over the table towards Karkat as he placed his phone on the table. He was dangerously close to knocking over the slushie and every instinct inside of him screamed to move it away from him. “Dude,” he paused for a second to control his laughter, “Did I ever show you this kick-ass photo I got of this young couple and their dog? They called it family pictures and literally put it in a baby onesie. Like, literal perfection. Who wouldn’t want to see their dog in an onesie?”

He rolled his eyes in response, “Uhm, I mean, do you seriously want to try and fit a massive golden retriever or some shit in a fucking baby onesie? There’s no way that’d end well.”

His face lit up in glee, “Wait, oh my god! Karkat, we have to dress Crabdad in an onesie. Please. I’ll go get my tripod and we can dress like suburban grill dads. We can make Christmas cards and everything. God, we’re geniuses.”

“Please, there’s no way in hell Crabdad would ever, and I mean ever, not even in a million years, let us put clothes on him. He’s particular about his appearance and I’d never make him do such a thing,” Karkat scoffed, moving towards the phone’s off button. 

Dave simply swatted him away and instead laced their hands together.  _ Smooth _ . “Nah, I’ve got this covered. He likes me more anyway. I’ll be the photographer and the fashion designer, er- stylist? Whatever the hell its called, I’ve got it down. All smooth sailing on this sea.” 

“Did you literally forget that we’re friends with a famous fashion designer or is your brain just that puny and pathetic,” he jeered?

“That’s for you to decide,” Dave laughed, and Karkat swore he could see him wink behind the shades. 

For fuck’s sake, he has about the strangle the bastard. “Oh shut the fuck up! I’m leaving and I’m taking this blue raspberry, or whatever the fuck you called it, and leaving! See you in hell.”

“Wait, dude, are you serious? I was just flirting, y’know, like us Striders do. C’mon I’ll do the puppy dog eyes, just don’t leave yet,” Dave pleaded. He couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. 

Karkat rolled his eyes, “Ugh, do the puppy dog eyes and I’m kicking you out of this building. No, don’t give me that look you fucking bastard. Go away!” Now he was doing the sad puppy frown too goddammit. It wasn’t even effective, it just made him look stupid. “Whatever, I’m getting out of this shitlicking garbage of a building before I get high of the fumes of tutti-fruity vapes, you can come with me, I guess, but I’m drinking the rest of this.”

“Oh hell yes. Lemme just get the putent ass bowling shoes off of me and we can stroll downtown, like the couples in your movie, trying our best not to get robbed or cussed out by some fifty-year-old dude. Though I would love to hear you shout ‘Ok boomer’ at some random old guy. Maybe an entire retirement home, but one in like Florida, where all the rich old assholes are,” Dave rambled on as they took off the old shoes (that were totally not three sizes too small), and walked out of the bowling alley, that was breaking way too many health codes. 

“God well aren’t you just the romantic? I’m absolutely swooning,” Karkat rolled his eyes, “And I would but, I spend my entire workday trying not to cuss out old men and I’d rather not start now!” 

“Right, right. Customer service and all that dumb shit, hate that. Least it gives you money for college and all that stuff… and date nights…” Dave opened his mouth again as if he was debating to say more or keep his fucking mouth shut. “Wait... so, I’ll see you on our next date… can I call it that? Well, obviously I’ll see you around, you know I can’t stay away from those Chick-Fil-A waiters, okay well mainly you, but like, okay wow I’m messing this up,” Dave cringed, “Shit, am I bad at this or what... Okay, so what I’m trying to say is that, well, I’m really excited for our next outing, especially since the one and only Crabdad will be there too. So… I hope you’re excited too..?”

“Fine, yes, okay… I’ll admit that I’m excited, you huge fuck-licking clusterfuck of a person, if I could even call you one,” Karkat retaliated. 

“Awe, is that Karkat language for ‘I love you?’ Because I sure hope it is,” Dave teased, “But really, I’m looking forward to it, and I’m super excited to see you later, Kar.” He quickly jogged forward and wrapped the shorter boy in a hug, leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek, which he totally wasn’t blushing about in the slightest. “Okay, okay I promise I’m leaving now. See you, babe… oh wait, shit, can I call you that?”

“Of fucking course you can call me that,” Karkat said, exasperatedly. Okay, it was actually really cute that Dave even asked that, and he totally wasn’t a blushing mess because of it. “And I love you too… Crabdad does too. Now get home before you embarrass yourself any further.”

Karkat shook his head amusingly, turning in the opposite direction to his own shitty apartment. Maybe one day they’d have their own apartment together, overlooking the East Coast... once they paid their student loans off and had actual functioning jobs, of course. But for now, he was content with walking home in the dark, dreaming wistfully under the New Yorkian lights. And for once, he felt at peace with just waiting for the future. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this piece :D Feel free to please leave kudos and/or comments b/c they fill me with immense joy <3
> 
> Check me out on Tumblr @earthseaborealis ! Thank you so much <3


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